The Morning After
by KensiBlonde
Summary: What was the morning after Sam and Diane spent their first night together like? Inspired by 'A Ditch in Time' when Diane brings up the fact that Sam left to go watch a football game rather than spend the day with her. Only this ends a little bit better than it sounds like that did... One shot.


SETTING

Diane's Apartment

(SAM out of Diane's bedroom, wearing her robe. He looks around.)

Sam: Diane?

(He heads into the kitchen, coming back out, he sees no one. He shrugs and sits down on the couch.)

(Getting a little bored, he opens up a drawer on a side table and begins poking around. He takes out a notebook, opens it, and begins reading.)

DIANE enters.

(Sam jumps and shoves the notebook back inside the drawer. He stands up.)

Sam: Where'd you go?

Diane: I noticed I didn't have any coffee so I ran down to the market to get some. (taking in the sight of him in her robe) That's very cute, Sam. Pink is your color. I'll get the coffee on.

Sam: Forget about the coffee. I think you need to come back to bed.

(He grabs her and kisses her passionately. Then he begins pulling her by her fingers back to the bedroom.)

(Reluctantly, she begins pulling away…)

Diane: Sam, Sam … while that sounds like a very tempting idea, don't we need to get into the bar soon?

Sam: Not me. I took the afternoon off.

Diane: That's wonderful!

Sam: (kissing her and glancing at his watch) And we've got just enough time for a little recap session before I have to leave. (tries to get her back into the bedroom)

Diane: Leave? You just said you had the day off.

Sam: Sure, sweetheart. But I've got things to do. Busy, busy.

(Diane starts to get offended. She begins to twist out of his grasp.)

Diane: I don't understand. What is it you have to do?

Sam: Well, for one, the 'Vette could use an oil change. And I need to pick up some dry cleaning – damn, it's been there all week! I should really get over there. Mind if I take a quick shower?

Diane: Hold on!

(Sam stops in his tracks. He knows he's screwed now.)

Diane: Let me just see if I've got this right… we spend half the night making love and now you are decamping so quickly you'd think the building is on fire.

Sam: No, no, you've got it all wrong. We didn't spend half the night making love, we spent ALL night as I recall - though might have drifted off there in the middle of something – but it was only for a few minutes.

Diane: Oh, wait, I get it! This is what you always do, isn't it? Your man-slut _modus operandi._ You wake up in the morning with a woman and make a break for it.

Sam: C'mon, this is totally different. Ordinarily, I'd be long gone by now.

(She glares daggers.)

Diane: This is just what I wanted, Sam – to be treated like some cheap one-night stand.

Sam: Glad I could help.

(Sensing that he's really pushed her to her outer limits, he walks over and places his hands on her shoulders.)

Sam: All right, look. I'm not trying to run away from anything. I'm trying to run TO something – the playoffs.

Diane: Excuse me?

Sam: It's the playoffs, honey. And there's a big viewing party going on over at Dave's, and I'm expected there. If I'd known we were going to finally hit the sack, I would have planned things better.

Diane: So let me get this straight – you would rather go watch some football game than spend the day with me.

Sam: Well, when you put it that way … Yes.

Diane: (pointing) Get out!

Sam: (oblivious) Great. You know what, I'll just grab a shower at Dave's. Game's gonna start soon.

(He rushes into Diane's bedroom. She seethes in the living room.)

Diane: This is untenable! This is sophomoric!

(He comes back out of the bedroom, with a shirt on, pulling on his pants.)

Sam: Are you talking to me? If so, you're going to have to dial down the vocabulary a few notches.

Diane: Sam Malone, if you walk out that door, we are finished. You will never see me again, ever!

Sam: What's the big deal here? We just spent all night together and I'll see you in a few hours.

Diane: That's not the point. The day after such passion and intimacy we should be walking in the park together, holding hands, revealing secrets about ourselves, getting to know each other on a deep and profound level…

Sam: Can't we do that after the game?

Diane: NO!

Sam: Oh boy, oh boy. I knew this was a big mistake.

Diane: What?!

(He sinks into the couch, defeated.)

Sam: I didn't mean that. I just meant… we're going to have to spend every waking moment together now?

Diane: No, I just … (flicking her hand at him)… oh, you know what, go, go…! Far be from me to impede your primitive male bonding ritual.

Sam: (oblivious once more to her sarcasm) Thanks for understanding.

(He stands and puts on his pants, then kisses her quickly.)

Sam: I'll see you later, then.

(He is halfway out the door, when…)

Diane: (calmly) No, Sam, you will not be seeing me later. I'll do my shift at the bar, but then you should find another waitress. And don't even THINK you're coming over here tonight. A man who would choose to watch a football game over spending the day with a woman he supposedly cares about is not a man I want to be involved with.

Sam: Aw, come on… (he turns around and comes back) Honey, I wouldn't do this for an ordinary game, but it's the playoffs.

Diane: My heart bleeds.

Sam: All right, all right … I can see how this is going to go. What am I supposed to do now, eh? You want me to read some poetry to you? Play a harp outside your window? What?

Diane: Not a harp! (grins) A flute would be fine. (pause) Sam, seriously, I don't want you to do any of those things. I want YOU to want to do those things.

Sam: But I don't want to do those things.

Diane: Then we're doomed.

Sam: Would you lighten up? We are not doomed! You know what your problem is? You read too many fairytales as a kid. I'm supposed to whisk you away on a white horse because we hit the sheets?

Diane: You really just don't get it. You're boorish and uncivilized.

Sam: Are you trying to get me hot again? (grins) Okay, look, whatever you want to do… let's go for a walk in the park then.

Diane: (softening) Truly, Sam?

Sam: Sure. Dave lives at the other end, I need to head that way anyway.

Diane: (hitting him on the arm) Sam!

Sam: I'm kidding! Forget the game, jeez. Just remember this next time you want me to sit through some horrible opera thing.

Diane: You never sit through anything I try to get you to watch.

Sam: Well, _this_ is why.

Diane: All right, I guess if this game is that important to you… you should go. Besides, it's the willingness on your part to give it up for me that really counts.

Sam: (plopping back down on the couch) No, no, I'm going to stay here and braid your hair.

Diane: Really, Sam. This is all I needed. I just wanted to see that I'm different from all of those other bimbettes.

Sam: Of course you are. They would have let me go to the game.

Diane: Ha! You would have disappeared so fast they wouldn't have even known there was a game.

Sam: Well, you got a point there.

Diane: (patting him on the knee) You should go.

Sam: (standing slowly) I feel like this is some kind of test. I'm going to get halfway to the door and you're going to yank my chain again.

Diane: Sam! I don't have any chains on you! You are free to come and go as you please. Just get my permission first.

Sam: You know what, lady, if you weren't so damn cute I'd stuff that pillow right in your mouth.

Diane: Promises, promises.

Sam: Okay, look, here's an idea. Dave really does live on the other side of the park. Why don't we walk there together. You can tell me all your secrets and stuff on the way. Just promise me you'll make them hot ones.

Diane: Deal.

(She stands up and they hold hands.)

Diane: See that? What a wonderful compromise we just made. This is what a relationship is all about.

Sam: Who said anything about a relationship?

(She stops and glares at him again.)

Sam: Jeez! You seem to have lost your sense of humor this morning.

Diane: You are going to lose a lot more than that, Mr. Malone, if you keep this up.

Sam: I've already lost my mind, my dignity, my pride and my freedom, what else is left?

Diane: Your kneecaps?

Sam: Yep. There's those…


End file.
